Anthology of short fiction

The Last Human

After WWIII we moved underground while the mutations ate each other. Our scout found a baby. We raised him. He saw better, moved like a cat. Gone for years, he returned, ruler of "The Last." Last alive, no longer human. They scared us. But he'd explained our power, clean water, space under scorched Earth, where the soft people lived. Used to live. They forced us out. Disease killed half of us; thirst and hunger, half that. I'm the last human, but my blood is poisoned. When I'm gone, they will win; the apocalypse over, humans dead. They will eat me.